


Not Even A Little Bit

by Writcraft



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Antagonism, Enemies to Lovers, Humor, M/M, Sexual Tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-16
Updated: 2018-03-16
Packaged: 2019-03-31 23:42:17
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,979
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13985811
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Writcraft/pseuds/Writcraft
Summary: Harry is asked to investigate Severus Snape. This isn't going to go badly at all.





	Not Even A Little Bit

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the very wonderful owlpostart (who has such a lovely Severus Snape [here](https://owlpostart.tumblr.com/post/162866973640/morning-snape-shaped-warm-up)) for the prompt 'dark and delicious Snarry.' With apologies, it's not at all dark and nor is it overly delicious but...I hope you like it anyway? :D <3 
> 
> The title is taken from 10 Things I Hate About You, with another reference within the fic to part of the quote: _mostly I hate the way I don’t hate you; Not even close, not even a little bit, not even at all_

Harry scowls as it starts to rain. He tugs his robes around his body and casts a charm to protect himself from getting wet. The last thing he wants is to turn up at Snape’s shop looking like a drowned rat. He doesn’t even want to be here in the first place, traipsing through the darkest bits of Knockturn Alley to investigate the recent influx of black market potions using Ministry restricted ingredients. He hasn’t seen Snape for a long time, and Harry would have been quite happy keeping it that way.

He pushes open the door to the shop which announces his arrival with a disdainful _ding_. Even the bell sounds pissed off. The small space is empty, dull and uninviting. Ominous shelves of books loom over Harry and a particularly heavy stack teeters as he walks past. The crooked, misshapen shop is thick with dust which makes Harry cough and momentarily clouds his glasses. He reaches for a shelf to steady himself and winces when the distinctive sound of glass breaking on the stone floor shatters the eerie quiet. 

Harry cleans his glasses with a hurried spell and removes his hand from further danger, studying the shelf lined with tiny, dusty phials of liquid of varying colours. A glass of newts eyes tracks his movements as he pokes around looking for the salamander blood and rare breed of flobberworm the Ministry has been getting their knickers in a twist about. If he’s honest, Harry couldn’t give a rat’s arse about the flobberworms. 

“ _Mister_ Potter.” A familiar, sinuous voice sends an unexpected shiver down Harry’s spine, and he straightens. “To what do I owe this most unexpected pleasure?”

Harry turns to face Severus Snape head on for the first time since a disastrous meeting at a Ministry event back in god knows when. Harry vaguely remembers spilling champagne on Snape’s boots which resulted in Snape looking down his hooked nose at Harry and making a scathing remark about appalling Gryffindors.

“It’s actually Auror Potter.” Truthfully, Harry hates being called Auror Potter, but there’s something about Snape that always makes him feel like he’s on the back foot. Making a point of reminding Snape he's not a recalcitrant student anymore seems important.

Snape raises an eyebrow. His dark eyes fix on Harry and he sniffs, brushing a stray bit of dust from his robes. His fingers are long, ink-stained and strangely mesmerising. “Of course. To what do I owe this unexpected pleasure—” Snape’s lip curls in a disgusted sneer “– _Auror_ Potter.” 

Harry folds his arms and glares at Snape. “I’m here on official business—”

“What a pity,” Snape interrupts, his voice dripping with sarcasm. “I was hoping you had come to join me in a glass of scotch, or perhaps bring me a little of Molly Weasley’s infamous rabbit pie.” He smiles in an unpleasant fashion. “I do so enjoy your company. Such sharp wit. Such an able mind—”

Harry bristles and resists the urge to start flinging hexes at Snape. “I’m here to investigate you.”

Snape rolls his eyes. “Naturally.”

“I need to search your store.” Harry’s fingers curl into fists and the familiar, hot rage he always gets around Snape bubbles inside him. “For illegal potions ingredients.”

“Ah.” Snape taps his finger against his lips, giving Harry an ominous look. “And what, exactly, do you know about potions ingredients?”

Harry consults his papers, cursing when one of them flutters to the floor. “Quite a bit, actually. There’s this endangered flobberworm—”

Snape starts laughing. Actually _laughing_. Harry doesn’t think he’s ever heard such a strange sound in his life. Snape’s laugh is surprisingly rich and a lot less off-putting than Harry would have previously imagined.

“What the bloody hell are you laughing about?” Harry shakes his papers in Snape’s direction. “You’re being investigated for fucks sake.”

“An endangered flobberworm?” Snape catches his breath and pushes his hair back from his face. “Come, come. You can do better than that, surely?”

Harry frowns. “Do better than what?”

Snape is rather close now, his eyes boring into Harry’s. “Better than that pathetically flimsy excuse.” Snape lightly pushes a stray bit of hair off Harry’s forehead and hums thoughtfully. “You’re so transparent, Potter. Tell me, what exactly does this endangered flobberworm look like?”

Harry splutters, half tempted to yank back from Snape’s touch and half wanting to lean into it. He’s struggling to remember what an actual flobberworm looks like with Snape so close, let alone the endangered one. “They gave me pictures,” Harry says. He’s aware even as he says it how stupid it sounds. He scowls at Snape. “I’m going to put this in my report.”

“A report, no less. How fascinating your job must be.” Snape sounds amused. He studies Harry and his eyes flash with something Harry can’t decipher. He moves away after a heart beat longer and waves his hand. “Conduct your investigation, if you must. You will find nothing of interest here, more’s the pity.”

Harry sighs, poking through the bottles on the shelves. Snape’s right. His job isn't fascinating at all. Being an Auror is ridiculously boring when the biggest evil afoot involves worms and salamanders. “I thought we could be civil to one another after everything.” Harry makes a pretence of taking notes as he presses his nose close to a glass jar which eyes him back with suspicion. Dragons eyes. Potions really are disgusting, Harry decides.

“Why on earth would you imagine I have any interest in being civil with you?”

“Because you did a lot for me—” Snape clears his throat “—fine, for my mum.” Harry mutters a curse under his breath. “Bit weird doing all that because you wanted to have a shag a bazillion years ago if you ask me.”

Harry finds himself grabbed by the scruff of his robes and almost launched across the room as Snape confronts him, his eyes wild with fury. Bits of spittle land on Harry’s face as Snape grips his robes, yanking Harry close. 

“Take that back, you insolent child!”

Harry shakes Snape off, shoving him away and he’s surprised by the restless, guilty heat in his chest when Snape stumbles momentarily. Snape’s no match for Harry physically and magically? Well. Harry’s learned some tricks since Hogwarts. “What, then?” Harry’s breathing is heavy, his rage racing through him and making his body hot. “What am I supposed to think?”

Snape rights himself, snarling. “How predictable of you to continue to think like a teenager. Of course you equate love with sex as if the two cannot possibly be divorced from one another.”

Harry drops his papers on the desk and advances towards Snape. “Why can’t you just be normal? I don’t think you’re capable of love – any kind of love – you can’t even be civil to me when I try to be nice—”

Snape growls, low in his throat. “When precisely were you trying to be nice? When you informed me I should refer to you as Auror Potter, or when you told me I am under Ministry investigation?”

Harry swallows and he shakes his head, trying to clear it. “I came here because—”

“You came here because you were forced to, by your superiors.” Snape is as close as he’s ever been to Harry, close enough that his breath is hot on Harry’s cheeks. “Not once have you attempted to come here for any other purpose. You ungrateful, idiotic—”

Harry is so blind with rage and a curious, fiery heat which pulses through his veins he’s barely thinking when he shoves his hands into Snape’s hair. He’s certainly not thinking when he presses their lips together in a violent moment of madness. It takes Harry a moment to realise Snape is kissing back. They’re kissing each other, reckless and unbidden with a force of heat and passion Harry has never felt with anyone else in his life. It’s not right, being in this strange shop and kissing Snape. It’s not right. Harry’s heart nearly beats out of his chest when Snape gathers Harry in his arms and all he can hear is, _but it is. It is, it is_. With dizzying clarity, Harry thinks about Snape’s confident assertion that Harry was here under false pretences. For what? To do…this? 

Harry pulls back, and he stares at Snape. He tries to catch his breath, sucking in greedy gulps of air. “You thought I came here because I wanted to kiss you?”

Snape’s lips tighten into a thin line and he glares at Harry. “I was rather hoping for a thank you.” He sneers at Harry. “A card, Potter. Some grapes, to brighten up my months in St Mungo’s recovering from the venom coursing through my veins as a result of trying to save your sorry hide. Clearly, I did not expect to be assaulted in my own shop. A simple owl would have sufficed.” 

Harry frowns at Snape and tries to ignore the way his heart is nearly leaping out of his chest. It’s Severus Snape. _Professor Snape_. Harry has just kissed Snape and it was the best kiss of his life. “You think I like you?” He gulps. “Like _that_?”

Snape gives Harry a smirk. “I think you do now.”

Harry huffs and reaches for his papers, shoving them in Snape’s direction. “I’m supposed to be working on a case. Do you have any ideas who would use endangered flobberworms and the blood from rare salamanders in their potions?”

Snape gives Harry a disdainful look. “I can give you a list of names, none of which are my own. A person who resorts to the indignity of digging for rare worms is clearly a charlatan. I have hardly spent the better years of my life perfecting a craft that enables me to bottle fame, brew glory and—”

“Snape?” Harry holds up his hand.

“Yes, Potter?” 

“I’m trying to ask if you think it would be fine to take the rest of the day off.”

“Is that so?” Snape gives Harry a dark stare. It’s positively filthy. He runs his thumb over Harry’s lips, keeping a careful eye on him. “I imagine there’s a lot one might do with an afternoon off. Potage’s has a sale on collapsible cauldrons.”

“Brilliant.” Harry parts his lips, taking the tip of Snape’s thumb into his mouth and trying not to groan. He thinks he might be about to learn the many advantages of a man being good with his hands. “Perfect.”

“Hmm.” Snape extracts his thumb from Harry’s mouth and murmurs in his ear. “Of course, there is an alternative option if you are not overly interested in pewter.”

“Such as?” Harry’s cock likes the sound of Snape’s alternatives. His whole body is unapologetically interested in _alternatives_.

“Such as being fucked until you can’t remember your own name.” Snape’s lips press against Harry’s ear and his tongue flicks against the shell of it. “For a start.”

Harry takes a breath, pulls out his wand and sends a Patronus to Kingsley that informs him of _an absolutely must investigate this immediately_ lead on the flobberworms. “Bed?”

The corner of Snape’s mouth tilts upwards and he waves his hand towards the back of the shop. “Upstairs. I hope you realise I’m going to lose half a day’s trade because you’re an insatiable brat.”

“I’ll just have to make it worth your while, then.” Harry grins at Snape and yelps when his cheek results in a swat to his backside. 

“Let’s not forget the absence of a card, grapes and a simple thank you,” Snape says. 

“You should probably put me in detention for all of those things, Professor.” Harry gives Snape another long kiss and _god_ it’s good. “Bed.”

“I’ve already told you the way.” Snape gives Harry a nudge. “Unless you’re losing that Gryffindor nerve?”

“Not even a little bit,” Harry says.

_Not even at all._


End file.
